The Slush Pile
by Vashka
Summary: Bits of story that stumble out of my brain from time to time. Ficlets from many fandoms that may or may not be continued. LATEST: Lucius needs to take care of a little problem.
1. Harry Potter

**Title: Seeds of the Pomegranate**

**Genre: Harry Potter**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am making no money form this story.**

**A/N: Hey all! I know I've been absent for a loooong time, but there are reasons for that. See, I started medical school. Yeah. And that has pretty much consumed my life. So I am writing, just not as much or as fast as I used to (and I was never a fast writer.) So here are some drabbles I wrote awhile ago to try to appease you. I am think of continuing a few of them- tell me which ones you like.**

Draco held out the split pomegranate to Hermione, the crimson seeds glistening in the cold light of Hades.

"Here," he said, silver eyes gleaming, "Eat something."

She reached for the fruit as if in a trance, her eyes fixated on the pomegranate resting in his hand. She touched it delicately, but then her hand snapped back, as if burned.

"I… I shouldn't," Hermione said breathlessly, her amber eyes meeting his for a long, uncertain moment, "My mother said…"

Draco smiled, "Just eat a few seeds. You haven't eaten anything since you came. And I picked this just for you…"

"It is beautiful," Hermione said, her lush mouth curving, "I suppose a few seeds couldn't hurt. I have been hungry."

She took the pomegranate and munched happily on the sweet, ruby-red seeds.

As she ate, Draco felt the weak bond between them solidify.

He smirked triumphantly.

_Mine._


	2. Labyrinth

**Title**: **Devotion**

**Genre**: **Labyrinth**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth, and no money is being made from this story.**

From the first, they were never meant to be.

Jareth stood at the edge of the Labyrinth, the cold, dry wind plastering his black cloak to his lean form.

They had overcome so many obstacles together, he and his Sarah. The Labyrinth, Time, and Dimensions- they shattered under the heavy weight of their desire.

For a wisp of a moment, they had been happy. Truly, radiantly happy. But they could not overcome the last and greatest obstacle.

Mortality.

Jareth drew a deep, shuddering breath. He tore his gaze from lonely grave under the crooked tree, and left his heart buried under the unforgiving earth.


	3. Harry Potter II

**Title: House Husband**

**Genre: Harry Potter**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am making no money from this story.**

I stood in the fireplace of our small home covered in floo-powder, savoring the smell of seared meat and garlic.

_Ah, that smells like a new recipe_, I thought distractedly as I toed my pumps off of my aching feet. _I wonder what he is trying tonight? Smells delicious, but I hope the kids aren't too fussy about it._

As soon as I plop into my favorite chair, my youngest boy comes running into the room, socks sliding on the polished wooden floors. I watched, alert now, as he toppled over taking out my favorite crystal vase in the process.

Guiltily, blue eyes peek at me through long auburn lashes. I felt the anger rise and recede as I stare into those cornflower eyes. _He's just like his father_, I thought wryly, _nothing can get me going like Ron on a bad day… and then he just bats his eyes and all is forgiven._

Sensing that he was forgiven, little Arthur jumps into my lap and snuggles into the folds of my robes as he tells me about his day. As he chatters, I can hear my husband talking with our older children as they help him with supper. I smile contentedly as I smell the soft baby-smell of Arthur's crimson curls.

It's good to be home.


	4. Greek Mythology

**Title:** **Passion**

**Genre: Greek Mythology (guess who!)**

She had always been a passionate creature, even when she was very small. She loved her pets and family with rabid intensity, took to her studies of magic with a determination that startled her teachers, and living with the gusto of a girl that had a glorious future ahead of her.

So, it was no surprise that when she saw him, her perfect, golden man, and the summation of all of her devotion fixated on him.

Perhaps it was an arrow from Aphrodite that sparked her deep, consuming desire for him. But she suspected that it was a product of her nature, plus a naïve fascination with the unfamiliar warrior. She saw him, she wanted him, and, in the end, she got him.

She had been powerful, but young.

He had needed her, but not in the same elemental way she _needed _him.

And now, as she heard his anguished screams as he found their boys, their beautiful, fragile boys, she felt nothing.

A/N: If you guessed Jason and Medea, you'd be correct!


	5. Harry Potter III

**Topic: Scaling the Heights **

**Genre: Harry Potter**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am making no money from this story.**:

**A/N: A silly little D/Hr short written only in dialogue**

"You know, we never should have tried this."

"Oh, you think?"

"No need for sarcasm, my dear. The refuge of the weak minded, you know."

"I don't care! Now get me down from this bloody cliff, or else."

"Else what?"

"Else no more playing Dark Wizard and Beautiful Captive. Ever!"

"Well. That certainly is a threat. But in case you haven't noticed, one of us kicked our broom and clothing fell over the cliff while we were otherwise… occupied."

"Oooo… You make me so angry! Get me down now or you'll be the first wizard to attempt broomless flight."

"All right, all right. But I have a better idea."

"Oh, really? What, pray tell, could be better than this pinnacle of brilliance?"

"Well… We could just stay here until they send the search parties."

"That is not an idea. That is a piece of verbal flem that I will pretend I didn't hear… Oh… No fair using… your tongue like that…"

"Mmm… I suppose now wouldn't be the best time to tell you that I have had my wand the whole time?"

…

"What? You're hot when you're mad."


	6. Dragonball Z

**Title: Ambush**

**Genre: DragonBall Z**

**Disclaimer: I so not own Dragonball Z and I am not making any money form this story.**

Bulma was never sure when he would attack.

Although 'attack' was a bit of a misnomer, Bulma mused as she carefully painted her lips, when the consequences were so, so welcome.

She wouldn't see him for a month, and he would spring at her, clasping her shocked body to his as she walked around a dark corner. She would be hard at work on some machine in her lab, and he would barge in, throw her on the nearest horizontal surface and rip her clothes off. Or, she would be in the shower, eyes tightly shut and felt his hot, sculpted body behind her, his calloused hands caressing her sensitive body.

And, afterwards, when she was sweaty and exhausted, he would calmly pull on his training clothes and _smirk ._

Much as she loved him (she was finally able to admit this to herself- denial just wasn't in her makeup) he was the most infuriating, stubborn and annoying creature alive.

But Bluma Briefs didn't get mad, she got even.

She checked her appearance in the mirror on last time, and grinned.

_Time to go tell Vegetable-head that he's going to be a father._


	7. Harry Potter IV

**Title: Hidden Talents**

**Genre: Harry Potter**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am making no money from this story**.

The candles had almost burned to the nubs, giving the ridiculously large bedroom a cozy atmosphere that was absent during the daylight. Upon the huge, mussed bed, two sweaty bodies lay intertwined, lazily caressing the shadows made by the guttering flames.

"Mmm…" Hermione murmured sleepily, "That was… positively sinful. However did you think of it?"

Draco smiled wickedly as he dropped a tired kiss on her golden shoulderblade. "I am a creature of many talents. You don't know the half of it."

Turning over to rest on his damp chest, Hermione looked into his flushed face with wry humor, "Really, now? Somehow I think you are exaggerating."

Folding his arms above his head, he said superiorly, "For one, my dear, I can name any wine with just a sip. Vintage and everything."

"I don't believe you!"

Reaching over his lean body, she retrieved her wand, a corkscrew and a glass from the nightstand. With a murmured, "_Accio wine!_" two bottles flew from the cellars into her waiting arms.

As Draco a brow in question, Hermione smirked. "Let's have a little test, shall we?"

Uncorking the two bottles, she poured a generous amount into the glass, swirled, and inhaled the fine fragrance. Smiling at Draco's intense gaze, she took a long sip, swirling the delicate wine around her tongue. Draco smirked and leaned in.

Slowly, teasingly, Draco's lips and tongue feasted on her plump, wine-drenched lips, laving the wine from her sweet flesh.

"Pinot Noir, 1976."

Hermione blinked in shock, shaken from her sensual daze. Grumbling, she plumped up her pillows and prepared to go to sleep.

"Now, now, darling. Don't be upset that you lost. Just think of all the fun we're going to have with the Cabernet Sauvignon 1985."


	8. Pride and Prejudice

**Title: A More Gentlemanlike Manner**

**Genre: Pride and Prejudice**

_Had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner…_

Fitzwilliam Darcy stormed into his chambers at Rosings, slamming the door behind him. With jerky movements, he stripped off his wet clothing, his jaw clenching and unclenching spasmodically.

She had refused him. Him!

Once naked, he quickly toweled off and pulled on a soft robe. Stomping to the fire, he poured himself a snifter of brandy and took a long swig. Grimacing at the burn, he turned to the flames, trying to rid himself of a vision of fine eyes snapping, beautiful lips curling disdainfully…

She had refused his offer with so little effort at civility, she must truly hate him.

_Had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner…_

His hand clenched, his long fingers curling around the delicate crystal.

And for what reasons? Misinformation from a cad. How easily her opinion of him was swayed!

He had truly thought that she knew him. That her teasing meant that she knew how uncomfortable he was in social situations and she just… understood.

But she didn't. She hated him. He disgusted her.

…_In a more gentlemanlike manner…_

Waves of wrath, sorrow, and regret twisted inside him until they spiraled into one inarticulate scream of pain as he smashed the glass into the fire. Breathing heavily, he sank down onto the floor as he saw his visions of a happy life together shattering like so much crystal.

_Oh, Elizabeth_…


	9. Harry Potter V

**Topic: The Heart Wants What It Wants**

**Genre: Harry Potter**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am making no money from this story.**

She felt Draco's slender hand run through her hair and stiffened internally. She knew her parents wanted this union, she knew his parents wanted it, and Merlin knew _he_ wanted it.

Pansy shuddered.

Draco's hand stilled, questioning, but Pansy sent him a reassuring smile and it resumed.

No one had ever asked her what she wanted, what she needed. And she had only ever wanted one thing…

Harry Potter.

She had grown up reading articles about him, hearing her parents talking about him, knowing that if he could only be convinced to join the Dark Lord that he would be the most powerful wizard of all time.

And she would be his bride.

When she had first seen him at the Sorting First Year, her breath had stilled. He was exactly as she had dreamed- his dark hair falling into his eyes, his brilliant green eyes searching the room anxiously as the hat was placed onto his head. He would be in Slytherin, Pansy thought anxiously, he I had /i to be in Slytherin.

"_Gryffindor!!_"

The Hall cheered, Pansy's heart broke.

So she loved him from afar, watching him with those dirty Weasels, that uppity Mudblood. She knew that he was the perfect Slytherin- so cunning, so smart, so ambitious. She watched him waste himself on other women- that whore Cho and the blood-traitor.

With every day a bit of her soul died, with every kiss Draco took from her lips her heart cried for Harry's touch.

But she would never say anything.

The battle lines were drawn before she was born, and she was too weak to defy them.

But perhaps…


	10. Indiana Jones

**Title**: **All in a Day's Work**

**Genre: Indiana Jones**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Indiana Jones and I am making no money from this story.**

_How do I always end up in these situations?_

It had all seemed so simple. One of his contacts in Egypt had heard rumor of a ruined temple in the desert, he was be interested, and he contacted Sallah to set up the dig. He would excavate, and perhaps he would get enough scholarly material to publish a book about his work that academics would actually believe, so he could get out of the shit-hole of a position he was in and finally get tenure.

But, of course, the temple he found was protected by a secret cult bent of protecting… the Spear of Destiny.

The spear that pierced the side of Christ at his crucifixion.

The _Spear_ of goddamn _Destiny._

Oh, and the Nazis wanted it too.

It seemed that the Germans had supposedly had it for centuries, but as with many other medieval relics, it was a pretty authentic looking fake. The legend told that the Holy Roman Empire would never fall as long as it possessed the spear, so Hitler's obsession with finding the real spear was natural, Indy supposed.

As he held the fragile spear in his left hand, right had his pistol steadily trained on the various cult members, Nazi's and two-timing scholars, he smirked as he backed out of the crumbling temple towards his horse.

He loved this job.


	11. Harry Potter VI

**Topic**: **Perspective**

**Genre: Harry Potter**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am making no money from this story.**

**A/N**: **Oh, man Ginny and Goyle? The thought just rocked my world. I gave it a shot, but I'm not sure how _good_ it is! (It's a bit too long, but it's the best I could do)**

Ginny flew through the silent corridors, bright hair bouncing and breath huffing in exertion as she frantically made her way to the Quidditch Pitch.

_Oh Merlin, I'm late for the match. I should have never sat down to read _Three Thousand Species of Mold: Properties and Uses _without setting an alarm. Ron is going to murder me!_

Frantically adjusting her uniform, Ginny took no notice of her surroundings as she rushed to her sure demise at her brother's hands.

Hence, when she crashed into one Gregory Goyle, it came as no surprise to anyone but him.

_WUMP!_

Ginny felt like she had slammed into one of the suits of armor. Dazedly, she wondered if they had taken to wandering the corridors during school hours.

When she regained her breath, she looked up… and up… and up… into the astonished brown eyes of Gregory Goyle.

_Oh my, _Ginny thought faintly, _Ron isn't going to get the chance to kill me after all… I'm going to die right now._

Screwing her eyes shut as she waited for the death blow to fall, she was shocked to the core to feel large, warm hands efficiently straightening her uniform.

"You should go to your game, you're late." He smiled suddenly, showing off his straight, white teeth, "You'll need the practice if you want to beat us next week."

As Goyle walked away, Ginny watched him with wide, curious eyes.

_That… that was the most surreal moment in my life._


	12. Star Wars

**Title: Mirror**

**Genre: Star Wars**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars and I am making no money from this story**

He watched over her with a heavy heart.

Aldaraan's brilliant blue skies gleamed above him, heavy with moisture. It seemed almost sinful for him to be here on a beach, near so much water when so many on Tatooine would weep to see a slight mist of rain.

The tall, lean man sat on the smooth sand and watched the small toddler play in the still tide pools. Her short legs pumped frantically as she chased a particularly sneaky crab down the beach. Tired, she slumped onto the wet sand, her soft pink lips pouting.

Watching her play, the man was suddenly sliced with a sharp feeling of loneliness.

_By the Force, how he missed them…_

"Mister Obi?"

Obi-Wan was pulled out of his musings by the high wisp of voice. The small girl looked at him with liquid eyes – _Padmé's eyes_ – and smiled.

Somehow, he knew everything would turn out alright.


	13. Harry PotterLabyrinth Crossover

**Title: Surprises**

**Genre: Harry Potter/Labyrinth Crossover**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Labyrinth and am making no money from this story.**

Hermione blinked rapidly as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. A few moments ago, she could have sworn she was at Hogwarts arguing with Ron about something trivial, and the next... Well, she couldn't quite remember what had happened next.

Rubbing her aching head with one delicate hand, Hermione took in the unfamiliar room with growing apprehension. Noticing a large picture window, Hermione lifted herself off of the cold stone and wobbled over to it on weak legs.

She wished she hadn't.

The beautiful, stately moors of Scotland were gone as if they had never been. It was like no place she had ever read about, ever seen a picture of. She wasn't sure if she was even on _earth._

"Where am I?" Hermione rasped, horrified.

"Underground."

Hermione whirled around, her robes flaring around her tense body. Her eyes widened.

The man was lounging in a large throne that Hermione could have sworn wasn't there before. He was beautiful. He was terrifying. He wasn't human.

_That… that creature wasn't there before._

The man-like being sauntered over to Hermione, his dark boots clicking loudly on the stone floor. "My wife has been longing for a companion. I can deny her nothing, and you are just so convenient."

Hermione found her voice, her Gryffindor courage coming to the fore, "Why can't you let me free?"

The beautiful, deadly man smiled baring sharp teeth, "Those aren't the rules of this game, I'm afraid."

Hermione clutched the stone windowsill as she looked at the terrible, dark maze, her knuckles white and trembling.

"Your dear boy has wished you to the Goblins, my dear. I'm afraid he'll have to run the Labyrinth in Thirteen Hours for you to be set free."

_Dear Merlin. She was never going to get out of here_.


	14. Harry Potter HermioneCormac

Title: Obssessed

Author: Vashka

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Prompt: Hermione/Cormac, Post-Hogwarts

000

"Why are you following me?" She hissed, her breath hot against my cheek. Startled, I dropped the pair of omniculars I was holding, still crouched at the edge of the dirty roof.

I knew this day would come, I just didn't realize that it would be so soon. She wasn't supposed to spot me for days yet.

I smiled.

_My girl really is the brightest witch of our age…_

I felt the tip of her wand dig into my neck, threatening me with pain as I remained silent.

"Tell me!"

I raised my hands, slowly, showing that I had no weapons, no wand. Just as carefully, I turned around to face her. As usual, she took my breath away. I had always thought she was prettiest at times like these, her lovely face normally so still and reserved, alive with fury. Her wand was still grinding into my Adam's apple, her other hand clenched into a fist, her full lips trembling with emotion.

"Cormac…" She hesitated slightly, and I wondered what she was thinking, but soon her smooth mask was back. "I want you to stop this. You have gone beyond the bounds of propriety. I have told you that I do not want you in my life, and I mean it. My best friends are Aurors, and my boyfriend is a former Death Eater. And I," She bared her teeth in a facsimile of a smile, a smile that sent a shiver down my spine and straight to my groin, "I know things that you have never dreamed about, never even imagined."

She dropped her wand and stepped away, her mouth twisted into a sneer.

"This is your only warning."

With a swirl of her cloak, she was gone.

_Perfect…_


	15. Harry Potter VIII

Unexpected Pleasure

She was prettier than he remembered.

He had caught glimpses of her over his son's years at school and throughout the war, but he did not recall actually appraising her as anything but a nuisance since she was an awkward teen at the Quidditch Cup all those years ago. Now she was confident, self-assured young lady, studying alone on a Friday evening in the Hogwarts Library. Her barely tamed curls framed a face full of life and intelligence as she scribbled away on a bit of parchment. Although modestly clad in Hogwarts robes, his practiced eyes could still discern the devastating feminine curvature lying beneath.

No wonder his son was obsessed with this… creature.

Pity Draco could not be allowed to pursue her. After the Battle of Hogwarts, his son was growing more and more pigheaded, harder to control.

Too… Gryffindor by far.

The boy would accept that Lucius would guide the Malfoys through this treacherous new era, or else.

Lucius stalked her, unseen, watching her quietly study as he crept through the silent stacks.

Closer… closer…

With a quick _Silencio_ he jerked the startled girl out of her seat and into his arms. One arm occupied by the volumptous, struggling, furious girl, he activated his Portkey, taking them away from Hogwarts to one of the many Malfoy safehouses.

The heady scent of oranges and woman filled his brain as the Portkey hooked through his guts.

He would enjoy this more than anticipated.


End file.
